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2014.05.04 - Two Reds Don't Make A Right
Jason came to Bludhaven to find a certain sort of person. The sort of person who could help him break into Arkham Asylum. The sort of person that would further his revenge. Sadly, he was coming up against wall after wall. That he'd slogged through gutter and alley and wasn't finding anyone willing to take up a real special job. He was certain he was going to do so eventually... Which is why he was sitting in a bar, crossing names off his list, a sudsy beer going flat, mostly ignored. He kept his eyes on the door from his booth, back to the wall. He was hoping for the right person, a contact, to come through the door... but maybe he'd get lucky and find something better. Want to see every straight man in a place pay attention to the same point at the same time for probably the same length of time? It happens. Red She-Hulk has to duck under the doorframe to get inside, but otherwise there's enough room for her within the bar to move. And oh move she does. Her walk is a languid, graceful saunter, hips shifting back and forth that 'you could set a watch to' as she as once told. When she stops at the bar counter and leeeeans forward, the poor bartender gets an eyeful. It is, in part, all done on purpose, but done so often that it's become second nature. She smiles sweetly, her gold-glowing eyes brightening. "I'll have whatever you recommend." ...that definitely qualifies as a certain brand of better. Jason's brows lift, as he watched the woman (the woman was nearly a title in his mind) but he wasn't surer what to make of her. His eyes were on her longer than the others (and that said something.) But he scooted to the side in his booth, he watched her and waited. What would that woman do? Red She-Hulk ends up with a glass of whatever beer they serve in a dive like this. She knows she's got eyes on her. She probably wiggles her hips and rear a little bit, knowing just the attention she's attracting. After a sip, she smirks. "This is the swill you serve here?" Half the bar's eyes bounce with them. Jason's gaze? Steadier. He's not so easily enticed, even if his barely-out-of-his-teens libido reminds him that he's not been laid since Talia, and you know that's been like a freaking YEAR.... He ignores it. With the bartender tryin to come up with a suitable answer and failing. Will it be just mockery, or something more from the red woman? That's not body paint; that's her skin. Red She-Hulk ends up laughing when the bartender stares at her, unsure what to say. "It's not bad." The mug is emptied pretty quickly, and then she slides it back onto the counter. "Another." And just in case there's doubt, somehow she pulls a roll of bills from one pocket, depositing enough money to pay for three. Then she looks around the bar and leans back on the counter. It's a game she plays, sometimes, when she's bored. Who's going to be the first to be gutsy enough to approach her? Well, there's the usual mishmash of riffraff; the losers, the dopers, the drinkers, the wife-beaters, the johnny-come-latelys, the wannabes, the poseurs, and of course, the real deal. That'd be Jason Todd, staring at her over his beer, mouth in a line and blue eyes interested. He puts one boot out, kicks the the other bench to the booth out a little. To make room for such a bountiful woman. Invitation clear, even from a young man who looks barely of age to be in here (though he hasn't had time to dye his hair lately - the white forelock at his brow ages him) Jason waits to see what she'll do. The invitation, finally, is a surprise. She quirks a brow. Curiosity gets the better of her, and she saunters the short way across to Jason's booth before sliding into it. The shock of white hair gives the young man an interesting look. Her mug of beer is pushes onto the table. "Confident, hm?" "Maybe," Jason says, fingers curled against his bottle. "Or maybe I just didn't want to watch a bunch of drunks fumble to unzip their flies, look into their pants, and figure out where their balls went." A crass way to put it, but suitable for the moment. "I'm Jay." Short and simple. "And you're not what Bludhaven usually sees." Red She-Hulk laughs loudly. "I like you already." She could guess, from the stares alone, that she's not entirely what they're used to seeing. Whether that be in metahumans or in a woman, she wasn't completely sure. "Red," she answers. Short and descriptive. Utilitarian. She would use the identity Luthor set her with after they met, but... Well, this doesn't seem like that kind of place. "I'm just exploring." She casts a glance around at the other patrons. "I bet I've made their night." "And then I went and ruined it, seeing as I know right where I left my nuts." Jay grins, before he takes a swig of beer. "Looking for work in 'haven, or you ust passing through?" If she was a tourist, she was not looking to see the sites and soak up the culture. Bludhaven didn't have that kind of tourism. "Metropolis and Gotham got boring," explains Red. Not that she stopped long in Gotham. There's something... uneasy about that city. Bludhaven seems to be much more honest about itself. "Passing through mostly, I suppose." "Should've been there weeks ago." It wasn't very boring on the Night oof Owls, though Jay didn't get to see the fighting himself. He was recovering from the gunshot wounds that still have him slowed down, not quite fighting fit. "Bludhaven's Gotham's tawdry little sister. What Gotham won't do, Bludhaven will. Twice, if you ask nice." "I'll go three times if it's exciting enough." Yeah. She's purposely this shameless. "But there you go. Like I said, feels honest." Also Gotham has the Bat in the shadows, and while Batman doesn't scare her, he does induce paranoia. Stories of him are pretty good at spreading that. The Bat -- and his bond to the city of his birth -- is what drew Jay back. Home is where the heart is -- and his was buried in Gotham Cemetery. "Then I guess you'll be right at home," Jay replied. "Bludhaven's not my usual scene, but it has it's uses." "Uh-huh. And just what are you using it for, Jay?" She says this with all the subtle of... well, okay. Obviously by now: Red is not subtle. so any innuendo and the like in her voice is completely on purpose. She just smiles. "Trying to find the right people for a job. That's all," Jay said, casual as can be. He didn't rise the occasion the suggestive talk; that's not to say he didn't notice. He did. He simply had other priorities. It's habit. Alas. "A job, hunh?" She frowns a bit on the inside; Bludhaven's not exactly a place she should be looking if she w wants to erase the red in her ledger. "What sort of job?" Still, she's a curiosity Hulkette at heart. "The type where the fewer questions are asked, the better," he said. "I want to get someone out of someplace secure. That's all." The rest? Well, that was up to him. "Yeah?" She leans forward, which means she has to hunch up a bit. "Do they deserve to be there, or are you breakin' someone out that doesn't deserve to be there?" It matters, really. Notice she's not asking /where/ but she is clearly making assumptions. "Oh, they deserve to be somewhere entirely different," Jay asked, brows lifting. "They deserve to be in a morgue. But where they've got to go once they're out of the box they're in... that's on me and me only." This was very, deeply personal. The red in her ledger didn't compare to the payback that Jay needed to get. Nothing's ever easy, is it? "Why don't you tell me what you need, exactly." Because there has to be a way she can spin this. Or justify it to herself. Curiosity with a desire to find excitement is not exactly helping her here, unfortunately. Jay reached out and drained the last of his beer, before he let the bottle settle again on the table. He kept his fingers loose around the neck of it, forcing himself to remain relaxed, calm. "I need the Joker out of Arkham." Seven words and so much hate in all of them. Red She-Hulk stares at Jay for a long, long time before she starts laughing. Not nervous laughter, either. Just honest, amused, laughter. "You're shitting me," she says, shaking her head. "That's a slightly worse idea than letting him live." Jay's teeth flashed white; it was a snarl, not a smile-- there was no pleasantness in the way he grinned. "Who said he was going to live once I'm done with him?" "Because this is the Joker, and he gets out of everything," Red retorts. "What? I read the papers." She finishes off her bar and beckons the bartender over. He brings another bottle, she pays. "You know how many people would be after you?" Jay's grin doesn't quit. "Yeah. The exact person I want after me will come. And I'll handle him once I'm done with the Joker. I promise you -- neither of them will get out of this. But if you're not interested... I know I can find someone who is." He just has to be patient. (Jay is terrible at being patient, but he can endure it if he must.) Red She-Hulk doesn't scare easily, which is a good thing, but even the Batman makes her... wary. "Uh-huh. And then you next step is going to be what, killing the Bat?" Because the only thing harder than putting the Joker down for good... "Again: What happens after I walk away with the Joker isn't anybody's problem but mine. I just need a few hands to get him out. Transport's already arranged, as is where he's going," Jay said, resting his arms on the table. "Plenty of plausible deniability about it." "Uh-huh. Well then." She thinks this over. "What do I get if I offer a hand?" Might as well get to the meat of the issue, right? "A fat paycheck as soon as I have the Joker secured," Jay said. "Unless you're looking for something different. Information, gear-- I can do. I don't traffick drugs." Not.... directly, anyway. He was still working those angles to get crime under control. But nothing was more important than getting his hands on the Joker at this point. Red She-Hulk could use money. This is true. It's hard to try to re-establish a civilian life when you're big and red. She frowns and thinks. "All right. So how exactly am I going to have plausible deniability? You gong to take out any cameras, too?" "I can handle Arkham security. I've got an inside on that." It was just an offshot of WayneTech goods, and he could handle those in his sleep. "What I need is some heavy lifting to get him out, keep him restrained and get him loaded like cargo. Doesn't have to be nice, just has to get him physically off sight and into the night. I get my cargo, cash gets exchanged, and I vanish and my team -- however large or small -- goes away happy with cash and never have to see the clown again." Red She-Hulk considers a moment longer. Then she takes out a phone, turns it on, and get her number to display before spinning it about. "Here," she says. "My number. Burn phone. Not going to be tracked back to me." Her sensibility got a nod; yes, of course. Everyone had a burner phone these days. "I'll give you a call when we get moving. If you think you're up to it." "You just give me a call." She doesn't think she'll get money any other way, really. She has a place to hide and sleep and it even has furniture! But figuring out how to get food is becoming a bit of a problem, bit by bit. "Will do," he said. There'd be a call, down the line, once he had more of what he needed. Once the stage was set and the band was ready to go on... he'd be happy to get all the people he assembled in their places. Then, he could get the swan song playing for the Joker. Category:Log